


Objects in Mirror Closer Than They Appear

by Pinkerton



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Drinking, Epistolary, M/M, Road Trips, best efforts at healthy communication, emergency baking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21912241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkerton/pseuds/Pinkerton
Summary: Jack and Kent have been rebuilding their friendship. Kent needs someone to ride with him on a road trip to safely deliver his cat to his summer home. Jack sees a wonderful opportunity for his boyfriend to get to know his former best friend.What could go wrong?
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Kent "Parse" Parson/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 15
Kudos: 114
Collections: Polya Epifest 2019





	Objects in Mirror Closer Than They Appear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stevie_RST](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevie_RST/gifts).



**June 24**  
**Hotel Room 412**  
**Albuquerque, New Mexico**

Dear Sweet Pea,

I still think this journaling thing is silly and that I should be allowed to text and call you like crazy while I’m crammed in a ridiculously tiny car with your ex-best friend/ex-boyfriend and his giant cat.

I know, I know, we all agreed. This trip is for Kent and me to get to know each other, no digital backseat driving from you.

I miss you, though.

If you’d told me a year ago I’d be keeping Kent Parson company while he drives Kit to the beach house we’ll be guests at later in the season I would have had you checked for a concussion. You’ve done a lot of work on rebuilding a friendship with him, honey. And I know you got your apologies more than returned.

I love you more than enough to be invested in getting to know the man a little better.

My eye only twitched a little as I wrote that.

I’m joking, baby. We’ve all done the work, and lord, we sure have talked ourselves to death over it all, haven’t we?

Kit is adorable and as chill as the day is long. I had a good talk with Kent about first pets last night and maybe after a bottle of wine we both were crying over shelter dogs online and MAYBE we can revisit the dog discussion for next summer.

Maybe.

Sweetie, did you even make it to this paragraph, or are you still stuck on the part where I said Kent is your ex-boyfriend? Here’s the thing, Mr. Zimmermann. Crying over dogs led to more wine and what I’m saying is we started this stupid road trip hours later than we meant to because SOMEONE who may or may not be the captain of an NHL hockey team worked his way through a second bottle of wine on his own and did you know, Jack, light of my life, man whom I adore, that it seems possible your accounts of your friendship with him may have left out some instances of waking up in each other’s arms with frequency or you driving through a snowstorm (what were you thinking????) to spend New Years in Albany and honey, there’s that saying about how somewhere between two accounts of a scenario is the truth.

Goodness, look at that run-on sentence.

I don’t think you were lying to me about your relationship being only physical.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. You were definitely lying.

But it wasn't me you were trying to fool, baby.

Gosh, the desert was pretty at sunset. We made it to Albuquerque and smuggled the cat into Kent’s room. Thank goodness he’s quiet.

The cat, not Kent.

I hate sleeping without you. I’ll be home soon. I miss you. I love you.

Bits

**June 24**  
**Hotel Room 413**  
**Albuquerque, New Mexico**

_Zimms,_

_Journaling is dumb. So are feelings. You know what’s awesome?_

_Me._

_Haha, yeah. Sorry. Feels weird, writing to you, but not texting or calling you. Guess I got used to it again, over the last few months. What’s going to happen to our Snap streak? Oh, wait, you still refuse to download Snapchat. Ok, grandpa._

_Know what’s not weird? Starting a roadie with a hangover. Just like old times, huh? I mean, except for the fact that your boyfriend is riding shotgun._

_I think I told him some stuff last night. Don’t remember a ton. Just like old times again. How many times do you think I can make that joke? Truth is, I remember plenty from our Rimouski days. Do you? If you do, I hope it’s the good parts._

_Oh shit. Rimo. Last night. Fuck. It’s all coming back._

_This trip was a terrible idea, but I guess I want back in your life more than I want to not be stuck in a car with your boyfriend._

_He's cute. You did good there, brah._

_KP_

**June 25**  
**Mid-afternoon, Air Bnb**  
**Amarillo, Texas**

Hi honeybunch,

Ok, so maybe I’m going to be getting back to Providence later than I thought because we had an emergency right around Amarillo -- such a pretty name -- when that fool of man decided to tell me that McDonald’s apple pies were “fine” and that it doesn’t matter because cake is better anyway.

Cake better than pie? My gay left butt cheek. I told him if he didn’t pull over and find us a kitchen so I can prove him wrong I was going home, first-class, on his Amex. We may not make much progress east today, but we will be making at least two pies.

Who can even deal with a man who has no taste?

I mean, a few months ago I didn’t want to deal with him at all. You might recall. And yet here I am, in Texas, miles away from you, about to try and win over a man I spent years hating to the correct and good side of pie.

And baby, that’s the rub of it all. Maybe I didn’t hate Kent so much as I hated the way you managed to hide that soft spot he left behind in your heart. It’s a big heart (matches your big ass, which I really would love to get my hands on right now, but anyway), and I guess I might have to cede some territory I thought was mine alone. Prior claims might stand.

I can almost hear you, you sweet man, protesting. You go ahead. I’ll be right here. Well, maybe not _here_ here. I do aim to get back to you as soon as I can.

But first, pie.

Love you, so very much.

Bits

**June 25**  
**Early evening, Air Bnb**  
**Amarillo, Texas**

_Hey Zimms,_

_What the fuck, your boyfriend made me pull over halfway through the day and get us an air bnb so he could have a kitchen and bake pies. Do you know how hard it is to find cat-friendly places with a full kitchen on zero notice? I do because my personal assistant has been texting me angry emojis about it for a solid half-hour._

_Gotta say, the place is nice. Not as nice as your place, apparently. Eric has mentioned at least three times that the kitchen at your place has six burners and TWO ovens. Well his place. Your place. Same thing. Literally, I guess._

_As if the kitchen humble bragging wasn’t bad enough, apparently I pronounce pecan wrong. Seriously, where did you find this kid?_

_Oh, right, at your magical gay college._

_Ugh. Sorry. Sometimes I just wonder —_

_Nevermind._

_Ok, I’m back. Took a writing break to eat three pieces of pie and, like. Your boyfriend is so intense about this. I could lie and say it’s not at least a little hot — do you get a Pavlovian boner whenever he cooks? Bet you do, you weirdo._

_Or do you just get a boner around blondes that are shorter than you and have pretty eyes? You used to tell me that, you know. Or maybe you don’t. We were usually wasted, but we’d be making out and you’d stop and tell me how pretty my eyes were and not shut up about it till I got a hand on your dick._

_Maybe you do that with him, with those big fucking Bambi eyes he has._

_I have goddamn pecan pieces stuck all up in my teeth. How’s that for a sexy image? Worth it, though. Haven’t baked with a cute boy since back in the day with you. Do you remember when we got all fucked up and made chocolate chip cookies and set off the smoke detector at 2 am? Can’t take away those memories. I know cause I tried. I tried so hard to forget, but it never stuck, and now we’re burying the hatchet but I’m unburying (that’s totally a word, right college boy?) other shit and, buddy, I gotta say it sucks._

_We were happy._

_Well, I was. Maybe if I had been less happy I would have seen what was happening to you, but I was happy, and you can deny it like you did to your boyfriend, but if we weren’t in love, I’ll eat my hat._

_And you know how I feel about my hats._

_Shit. This was supposed to be snarky comments about pie._

_My therapist is gonna have a field day with this. You’re lucky you have me on video promising to show you this bullshit._

_Hey, do you remember when you blew me in that canoe? Good times._

_If your boyfriend gives me diabetes with all this pie I’m gonna be pissed._

_KP_

**June 26**  
**Early evening, somewhere in Arkansas**

Babycakes,

I miss you, but maybe I’m glad you’re not here, only because the playlists we’re fighting over are the stuff of your nightmares. I love you so much, but your podcasts are so boring, baby.

I know you know this. I complain about it enough.

So it turns out you like to date people who have great taste in pop music, and honey, if I accomplish anything by loving you it’s going to be warming you up to Carly Rae Jepsen.

You know. The one the Internet wants to give a sword to.

I’ll wait while you google it.

I get why we’re doing this journaling thing. It’s too easy when I’m talking to you and can see your gorgeous face and your sweet eyes, all full of love, to omit little things here and there, and here’s where I would have glossed over the fact that Kent and I fell asleep in the same bed last night. What a waste of paying for adjoining rooms, tho we both know he can afford it and then some.

We just got to talking and I have never been as thankful for Samwell as I am now. He broke my heart a little, baby, telling me about how maybe he could finally go out on a date without feeling scared since you and I came out, if he wanted to, instead of just hooking up with guys he meets online.

You know I came into this whole “rebuild my friendship with Kent” thing last summer thinking he was a snake in the grass and you were a fool to think otherwise, and there are parts of me that are still mad at you, but Jack, here it comes, brace yourself – maybe I was wrong.

Anyway, he drools in his sleep and his hair gets all fluffy and he’s pretty cute. Is that what he looked like when you woke up next to him all those years ago? You and him against the world, you with all those demons in your anxious, overwhelmed teenage head, so much pain. But, if he was your soft place to land, you could have done a lot worse.

I know this trip is meant to give Kent and me a chance to know each other outside of feeling like we’re in some contest over you, and I suppose you were right to expect we’d have things in common outside of you, but there are two side effects of this little scheme you didn’t think of. One, seeing you through his eyes is accomplishing the impossible of making me fall even more in love with you, and two, I need to break our rules for this trip and call you.

**June 27**  
**2 a.m., somewhere in Arkansas**

_Jack,_

_Fuck you._

_KP_

**June 27**  
**Noon-ish, somewhere in Tennessee**

Hi honey,

Goodness. The cards are certainly on the table after that call, aren’t they? Remember when our therapist said our sessions were a variation on checking practice, except for feelings, and we both laughed and laughed?

Not funny when feelings hit like a 230 pound D man. Not that any of the three of us are unfamiliar, but it still bruises. It's too late for this reminder, but I've had a lot longer to wrap my mind around all of it. You did kind of spring it all on poor Kent. It's a lot to hear for the first time. I mean, when you first brought it up with me -- well, you remember that week of sleeping on the couch pretty well, don't you?

We knew there were best and worst-case scenarios. Kent didn't leave. We're still heading east.

Forgive the handwriting, I’m writing this from the car because Kent’s not so big on the whole making conversation thing today, and the area we’re driving through is a million miles of mountains and trees. Pretty, but not the most exciting thing. So I’ll pass a little time with this.

I know it sounds paranoid, but I swear the cat is giving me the silent treatment, too.

I’m keeping tabs on you via Tater. I’m sure he’s telling you this, but if you were half the mess Kent was last night, well. Won’t be the first time Tater came through for us.

And, again, cause you’re gonna need to hear it as much a week from now as you did last, you’re not selfish. Kent was out of line. I hope he’s got an apology for you coming. He’s gotten a lot better at that lately, so fingers crossed.

And don’t think I’m letting you off easy, mister. You were out of line with him, too, and you better be readying your own words.

You two can put on your big boy pants and do this.

Lord. Kent’s shaking again. I’m gonna make him pull over and let me drive.

Bits

**June 28th**  
**5 a.m.**  
**Nashville, Tennessee**

_Zimms Zimmy Zimm Zim,_

_Your boyfriend is cute as shit. Did you teach him that tongue thing? Shit, I missed making out._

_We’re too drunk to fuck. Want to. Want him. Want you._

_This hangover is gonna suck tomorrow. Almost as much as calling you to apologize for the bullshit I said the other night. Isn't that something? That I gotta apologize for things I said but not for giving your boyfriend a hickey. Cause you want him to be my boyfriend. And I wanna be your boyfriend. Boyfriendssssssssss._

_Got distracted. I remember. Apology. Lookit, I'm putting a reminder in my phone. Says to say sorry. For the bullshit. Don't wanna waste time. Too long last time. Too many years._

_I think Bitty fell asleep. Sad. Wanna kiss him more. And you. Both. Lots. Oh god, I need to sleep._

_xoxoxoxoxo,_

_Kenny Zee_

**June 28th**  
**Mid-afternoon**  
**Nashville, Tennessee**

Hi honey,

Looks like we’re staying an extra night in Nashville due to hangovers. Oops.

A couple of things this fine afternoon:

First, I know you love your truck. I love your truck. And I know I’ve been asking for a truck of my own for my birthday. I’m gonna need to rescind that and instead request a sports car. Gosh, they’re fun. Kent can send you the details of what he drives. I think it’s expensive. I’m comfortable with that.

Second, despite what Kent might say, Kit was not even a little bit scared of my driving. She was having herself some fun! I cannot say the same for her daddy, who just about wore a hole in the floorboard trying to hit the non-existent passenger-side brake pedal.

We were fine. I only barely broke over 95. How do I always fall for men who drive like grandpas?

(To be fair, you drive like a grandpa. Kent drives like a fun uncle.)

Third, let’s revisit the last part of point two. The whole “falling for Kent,” thing.

You and Kent were so gracious with your apologies this afternoon. I’m proud of you both. I know you and Tater were heading out for dinner, and you had to get off the phone right quick, and we weren't supposed to be on the phone anyway, so you hung up before we could tell you about last night.

Well.

When a very handsome bartender plies you with the promise of the best daiquiri this side of Hawaii, the end result might be the evening ending with making out with your boyfriend’s ex-boyfriend in a very swanky hotel suite, with a very displeased cat shut into the bathroom on account of being very intent on interrupting the proceedings.

It’s not fair to blame the daiquiris. Really it was the tequila shots I only partially remember that did us in. Woke up feeling the farthest thing from frisky. More like hot garbage, to paint a picture.

I wanted to kiss him last night, and more, though we didn't get that far, and it was good, and it’s as strange to write it out now as it was to live it out last night.

I don't know what's next, here, but I don't think that's a bad thing.

I love you.

Bits

**June 29**  
**Charlotte, NC**

_Hey Zimms,_

_There’s a lot of things I never expected to do in life. Like, raise the cup. Let’s be real, if either of us was destined for that, it should have been you._

_But it was me, first, and maybe I finally need to get over being mad about that._

_I remember watching you skate for the first time, thinking “holy shit, that’s Bad Bob’s kid.” When did you go from that to Jack to Zimms? I don’t know. It’s not like I decided any of this for myself. We were teammates, then we were best friends, then more, then nothing._

_Let me take that back. Nothing is one thing we’ve never been. Think you may have tricked yourself into believing it. Think I might have too, some nights, dozing on a plane for the millionth time, or facing off, or singing to Kit or any other dumb second or minute or hour, maybe I fell for it. That we were back to before that first practice, before I saw the roster and zeroed in on your name._

_We’ve always been something. That’s the truth of it._

_This next sentence is gonna be weird, but what part of adult life isn’t? Your boyfriend and I slept together last night. I know we have your blessing — does that make it weirder? Hell yes. And since it's already weird, I'll keep going. I've been with guys since you. But this was the first time I felt anything like what we had. He's amazing, Jack. Not just the sex, obviously. Like, everything about him? Yeah. Everything._

_I stand by what I said. You’re selfish to want us both. But guess what? So am I. Never was much of a secret keeper when it came to loving you. Won’t be much of one when it fully lands with him._

_I’m not in love with him yet, Zimms. But I can see it happening, mapped out like this trip. Stops and starts and detours, but an endpoint. You and me and him._

_It worked, you insane asshole. This whole thing. It worked. And here's where knowing you for years and years comes in. You're going to play this off like it was your plan all along. You can't fool me. This was the last shot of a nail-biter of a game. No guarantee of it going in. Way more likely to ping off the posts._

_What would you have done if this hadn't worked? Even if it was just me walking away from it all, you can't tell me that it wouldn't have hurt. When are you going to stop using yourself as collateral damage? You and your stupid, wreckless, giant heart._

_We’ll hit the Outer Banks tomorrow, and I’ll put him on a plane back to you. You two can talk out what you need to, take your time, or maybe don’t? I know we said you’d both come down mid-July, but, let me put it out there -- I’ve spent enough birthdays without you._

_Love,_

_Kenny_

**June 30**  
**Outer Banks, NC**

Hi baby,

I’m sitting in the airport, on my way back to you. I can’t wait to kiss you all over your beautiful face, to be back in our apartment, back in my kitchen and in our bed.

Yes, I did list the kitchen first, what of it?

It’s funny how much I’ve written out to you here. I didn’t think it would work. This journaling, this trip. I have to admit, I was indulging you, at the start. And I was scared.

I’m still scared. You and me, you and Kent, me and Kent, the three of us. It’s a lot, Jack.

But you taught me to take a check, and you’ve shown me over and over that you love me, and I trust you. I trust us. And, heaven help me, I trust Kent.

We’re going to have to bump our trip up, sweetheart. I think I need to see you both together, to know this is real, that I didn’t just have some fever dream of traveling across the country and ending up in bed with Kent Parson by the end of it.

I always thought my list would start and end with you, sugar. My first love, my college sweetheart, my one and only. Nailed it on the first try. But, maybe that's not the end of the story I thought it was.

It's going to seem like I'm changing subjects on you, but stick with me. Do you know how much I hate to hear about giving 110%? Oh, don’t the boys and coaches love to throw that one around. Never understood it. What’s motivating about the impossible? 100% isn't just plenty, it’s as good as it gets.

I am 100% happy to love you the best I can till I die. I don’t think I need to be coy about it. We both know that’s where we’re headed, but now maybe the ring I’ve got hidden in the box of Christmas cookie cutters is playing it too safe.

You can go look, if you want. The cabinet over the sink, left side.

The ring is there, but...maybe I’ve got another 10% in me. Isn’t 10% more happiness, more love, worth chasing?

Or worth driving across half the dang country for?

This is why your hockey smarts are always going to outrank mine. 110% exists. You always knew it, didn’t you?

Smart man. Brave man. Beautiful man.

110%. I believe in it now.

You. Me. Kent.

All in.

I love you so, so much.

Yours always,

Bitty

**Author's Note:**

> Since I was a pinch hitter, I didn't get a chance to work in songs or tattoos -- I'm so sorry, and I hope that checking off the road trip and epistolary parts work well enough for you to dig this. If you're bummed, hmu with a fresh prompt and I'll fix it.


End file.
